


love in the dark

by carrow



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Alternate Universe - Space, Bisexual Character, Character Death, M/M, One Shot Collection, Rave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrow/pseuds/carrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stories about the things that happen when the lights are out.</p><p>Thrid story added: Durm/Reus; space AU.<br/>Fourth story added: Isco/Morata; band concert AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. blame it on the night

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where i'm going with this, to be honest, but I want to try new pairings and settings and what better than drabbles for that?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All he sees are lights that turn the people around him in nothing more than colorful, laughing shadows who never stop moving. Neither does Mats.

At some point between three in the afternoon and ten PM, Mats lost track of his friends in the sea of people. Not that he minded. By the time he noticed he was alone, Mats has already been alone for hours. Well, as alone as you could be in a crowded place.

The unending electronic beat and all the people dancing, who only needed to be nudged to turn around and dance with him, were distraction enough. Even if he lost everyone who arrived with him, not even for a second Mats felt alone.

How could he, when the whole place vibrated with life? Wherever he turned to, Mats felt bodies moving against his own, girls and boys with their arms thrown around his neck, laughing into his skin, and making him feel more alive than he ever remembered being.

The metal structure covered in white fabric did nothing to hide the sand on the floor, and Mats was grateful for leaving his shoes in the car. The white sand felt cool and soft against his bare feet, intensifying the feeling of freedom and complete abandonment.

Although he couldn’t see the waves or hear it over the loud beat of the music, Mats could smell and taste the ocean in the air even with the smell of thousands of people around him. When he closes his eyes, dancing to the electronic beat, Mats imagines the night sky outside and how it must be filled with stars this far away from civilization and its synthetic lights.

When he opens his eyes, all he sees are lights that turn the people around him in nothing more than colorful, laughing shadows who never stop moving. Neither does Mats. Even after hours, he can’t bring himself to stop. His feet hurt and so does his head, but instead of stopping, he grabs another drink – or takes a few shots with a friendly stranger – and then dives back into the sea of people. Mats loses himself in the never ending music, pulls someone closer to him at the same time someone else circles his waist with warm hands and he lets go, forgets everything but how to be alive.

It’s almost four AM and Mats has long gone changed his vodka for water. He’s sure he is only standing because the crowd keeps him up. That’s when he spots a familiar face. After fourteen hours in the backseat of a car, wanting nothing more than to kiss and bite and lick that mouth and feel those eyes on him, Mats is sure he would recognize the blond everywhere on Earth.

He makes his way on unsteady feet and receives a few complaints that he kisses away from a petit redhead who laughs at him and pushes him off. When Mats reaches Marco, he puts his arms around the kid’s slim waist and presses himself against his back. Mats can feel the way Marco shivers when Mats’ lips touch his neck. “Finally found you.”

Marco laughs and turns around, arms circling Mats’ neck. “Took you long enough.” Anything else he tries to say is swallowed by the music, so Mats’ just pulls him closer and moves to the beat that never stops.

Mats is shirtless, sweaty and starting to tire, but having Marco – shirtless as well, moving against him, and laughing breathlessly makes Mats want to go on like this forever. Beat after beat. Lights dancing through every color and back. Faces around them changing like masks. And Mats just wants to keep going.  
When everyone becomes nothing more than a shadow that changes colors, all Mats can see is Marco smiling like the cat that ate the canary. When Mats can’t understand anything over the cacophony of unstopping music and loud voices, all he can hear is Marco’s voice whispering sweet nothings. When Mats can’t taste the vodka or the ocean salty air anymore, he still can taste the cherry drink Marco was drinking earlier on his lips and tongue.

And he feels alive.


	2. one last task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His body is made of 1.7 Tons and almost 230ft (and 2 minds) and every part of it is hurting and dying and he can do nothing about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pacific Rim AU, yay! And Thomiros!  
> The two things that always break my heart and I love every second of.
> 
> WARNING FOR CHARACTER DEATH

When he is brought out of bed in the middle of the night, out of his blankets into the cold winter air and made to change from his pajamas into metal armor, Miroslav prays. Like he prayed all 13 times this happened before.

When Angreifer bites into his body (his metal body), Miro screams but doesn’t ask God _why this time_? Why this night? Why him?

(Why Thomas?)

There isn’t time for questions when Scarlet Bane has a hole on its body and they are fighting a monster bigger than any other before. No time to wonder why they have to die like this.

It’s cold and dark and every time Miro tries to breath his lungs hurt. There isn’t oxygen. He's dying and it is like in the nightmares that cut his sleep short every night. Exactly like he always feared.

It’s terrifying.

There's noise. _So much noise_. The AI voice he considers almost a friend now is too loud. The machinery that feels like (that _is_ ) an extension of his body is making horrible, distorted noises and it hurts his head. His arms hurt, his legs.

His whole body hurts - flesh and metal.

His body is made of 1.7 Tons and almost 230ft (and 2 minds) and every part of it is hurting and dying and he can do nothing about it.

It’s cold, like only the ocean in the middle of winter can be. Cold like he never felt before. It almost makes his fingertips freeze. _Almost_ paralyzes him and makes him just give up. But he can’t.

Not for himself; he’s a dead man - trying to - breathe by now, but for who’s at his side (and at his back).

Miro isn’t sure that thought is his. (Like he isn’t sure red is his favorite color, but still picks it every time. Or how he isn’t sure he has ever been to Spain, but still remembers the feeling of the sun in his skin) It doesn’t matter, though, it is his job.

He can’t give up as long as his eyes are open, even if that won’t be for much longer. He has one last task to finish.

He turns his head to his left to looks at Thomas’ young yet weary face one last time. It hurts like never before. He’s freezing, his body is barely moving. _Just a little longer_ , he thinks to himself and to his copilot.

Miroslav raises his left hand and Thomas raises his right hand, mimicking the gesture like they have done countless times before.

When Miro’s finger close around Thomas’ there isn’t heat or the feeling of skin on skin (Like the times when they would lay in their bunks and Miro would let his arm hang from his top bunk so Thomas could entwine their fingers and know Miro was right there). There’s only metal against metal and _coldness_. They don’t need to feel it, though, they have this feeling memorized.

With a last look at his copilot’s worn-out, tear stained and terrified face, Miro raises his right arm. Thomas mimics the gesture with his left arm (Like they’ve done countless times before). Scarlet Bane’s claws close around the throat of the beast in front of them.

The creature screeches with its terrible voice and it makes Miro (or is it Thomas?) dizzy. The dead weight falling upon them and filling the air and the cockpit with acid and sea water is their victory (and their only defeat).

In seconds the acid will reach their bodies through their destroyed armours, but it’s over now.

It's done. Angreifer is dead.

 _It’s a new record, Team Bane_. Lukas’ cheerful voice comes over the cacophony of metal and flesh and he doesn’t know. Lukas doesn’t know it hurts - Miro hurts and Thomas hurts and _they hurt_. But it’s okay.

It’s okay because the only lives Angreifer is taking today is theirs.

(It’s not okay, Thomas is too young.)

Miroslav can feel the freezing water slowly creeping into his armor. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t breathe ( _there’s no oxygen_ ). Everything around him is fading into black. Everything but Thomas.

Thomas with his bitten lips and gritted teeth, stronger than their metal shared body. Thomas and his blue scared (resigned) eyes.

 _We can rest now_ Miro thinks. No strength or air left to say it out loud. His eyes are too heavy for him to see Thomas ever again outside of the Drift.

Thomas’ quiet words seem so loud inside Miro’s head. _Do you think we’ll be in the Drift forever? Stuck in there for eternity, just you and me._

And Miro can’t laugh like he wants, can’t move (It hurts), but he still has the time to say (think) what Thomas already knows before Scarlet Bane is drowned by its (their) own weight.

_I hope so. It'd be a pleasure to share one more thing with you._

The last thing Miro hears before consciousness leaves him is Thomas’ laugh. And isn’t it fitting that the last thing he ever hears from his copilot sounds exactly like the first?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this can be described as love in the dark, right?!)
> 
> Feel free to scream at me in the comment box.


	3. across the universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when Marco touches Erik, it feels like the soft burning of a warm light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a part of a bigger AU i was writing, but I realized the narrative in this one was too different from the rest and decided to post it separately.  
> Thoughts?

Marco was born in a distant place in a forgotten corner of the Universe. A place where the ground is green and tickles your feet when you walk barefoot. The sky is blue, but not like the blue anywhere else, light blue at day and dark at night and in between it is a thousand colors. There are oceans and something called birds and something else he calls trees. Marco is from a place filled with the warmth and light of a burning star and everything reflects gold and white. Erik has never seen the place, the lines of his existence crossed Marco’s too late and now his home is just a memory he shares with longing tinging his voice and a smile molding his lips.

Erik drinks every word like a thirsty man would drink clean water. He’ll never know what Marco’s home looks like, but he thinks he can imagine it. He thinks the ground— _grass,_ may look as green as Marco’s eyes when they catch the light. The sky may resemble the infinity of colors reflected on Marco’s skin when they’re standing on the edge of an abyss with nothing but distance between them and a supernova. Erik knows oceans, but the ones Marco talks about— endless, full of life, constantly changing and so, _so, so_ beautiful, those he can only see in the shapes and curves of Marco’s body; when Marco runs and every muscle in his legs seem to be visible, when he throws his head back and laughs, when his arms circle Erik’s body.  Erik doesn’t know what trees or birds are but he’s sure he would think of Marco while looking at them.

Erik is from a cold, dark, silent place. He's been adrift for a long time, so deep into sunless planets he forgot what light is like. He’s lived centuries surrounded by dying stars and a black sky. He’s walked barefoot over rocks that cut instead of tickling. He's an old creature, one that looks young but feels millennial, and his memory fails him more than it should, making him wonder those small things like _what is light_ , but when Marco laughs it sounds like light. When he moves, it looks like light spreading through every surface it touches and when Marco touches Erik, it feels like the soft burning of a warm light.

He knows somewhere at his West, the place where he was born is still waiting for him to come back, but then he looks at Marco and he may not know what Marco’s home was like, but what he knows is this: there are pieces of that little corner of the Universe in the way Marco laughs in a explosion of sound and movement, in the way Marco’s golden hair almost glows under the light – natural or synthetic –, in the warmth emanating from long, pale limbs.

He used to be afraid of never knowing anywhere that wasn’t dark or cold. He’s still looking for a place where his fingertips won’t hurt and his breathe won’t freeze, but until he finds a place like that, he has Marco whose voice is not only a piece of his own long gone home, but Erik’s entire new found Universe. 


	4. "I love this song, wanna dance?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is - as always - Sergio's fault for having the great idea of coming to this stupid concert of a band Isco doesn’t even care about. But if he's being fair, it's also James' fault for convincing Isco with his 'I am too innocent and pure for this world why are you hurting me with your bitterness' look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should just rename this to 'how many AUs can I come up with'  
> First try at morisco and I'm not sure how I feel about it.
> 
> Not beta'd and i'm an awful proofreader so if you see any mistakes, feel free to point them out. :)

In moments like the present one it is certain to say that Isco hates his life.

He is trapped in the middle of a crowd. Barely able to move, with sweat stinky people pushing and rubbing against him and of course, alone. It is - as always - Sergio's fault for having the great idea of coming to this stupid concert of a band Isco doesn’t even care about. But if he's being fair, it's also James' fault for convincing Isco with his _'I am too innocent and pure for this world why are you hurting me with your bitterness'_ look. So yeah, Isco also hates his friends for making him attend the goddamn thing and then vanishing. 

(He hates them for a lot of reasons, actually, but that is the biggest one at the moment)

All lights are out, except the stage and the bar and after what feels like four hours but is actually just a bit more than 30 minutes, Isco stops trying to move against the crowd and just stands there, letting the people around move him. He's pretty sure if it wasn’t the heat and all the screaming, Isco would enjoy the music. As it is, all he can do is look resigned and wait for the whole concert to end.

Isco is checking his phone for the seventh time when a warm hand grabs his wrist and starts shaking his arm, like the owner of the wrist want Isco to jump. He looks up to see a guy, probably around Isco’s age jumping and screaming the lyrics to the song excitedly. He's attractive as hell. So attractive that Isco forgets to pull his wrist free.

When the song ends and the guy finally looks at Isco, his smile turns into a confused frown and oh yeah, _really_ attractive. "You’re not Jesé" he screams over the sound of the new song.

"No." Isco says shrugging. His wrist still under the guy’s fingers.

Cute and Tall (what? It’s a plausible description) looks around, probably looking for Jesé, and then looks down at Isco again. "I love this song, wanna dance?"

Isco laughs because there is no space to dance, there’s barely space to move. "Yeah, whatever."

Turns out, Cute and Tall can actually make ‘moving in the middle of a crowd’ feels like dancing, even if Isco keeps stepping on people’s feet. The guy moves to stand in front of Isco and grabs his other wrist, bringing them closer. Most songs are calm and they simply move around and it’s the most relaxed Isco has been in months.

They are "dancing" for four, maybe five, songs when the band starts playing an even slower melody and the stage lights are deemed. It’s almost unconscious how Isco turns his head up when his dance partner bends down. He tastes like mint.

Isco isn’t very fond of the taste, but the guy’s lips are soft and warm and move against Isco's without hurry, like they have all the time to do that. Isco closes his eyes – he’s never been able to kiss with his eyes open – and hopes he doesn’t look like an idiot. Cute and Tall’s finger entwine with his and Isco doesn’t even care about the sweat, he’s enjoying the gentleness and warmth too much to care about anything else.

He loses track of the time in between kisses and whispered lyrics. Their fingers remain entwined for the rest of the night and Isco forgets he was supposed to be looking for his friends. When the band says goodbye, Cute and Tall tugs Isco in the direction of the exit and for the first time in last few hours, Isco remembers there’s a world outside this place.

The night air is cold against Isco’s heated skin. His phone clock reads 3:40 but the street is illuminated and full of people coming out of the concert. He follows his companion out into the cold and with his free hand texts Sergio. _where the fuck are you_

“Álvaro” Cute and Tall says, once they’re out of the way and people stop bumping into them.

“Isco” He replies with a smile, not as bright or gorgeous as Álvaro’s but still, a smile.

“I live two blocks from here, if you want a coffee.” Álvaro looks almost shy, even if his voice sounds confident. He lets go of Isco’s hand and Isco misses the warmth instantly.

He’s about to say he should find his friends when Sergio’s answer arrives. _@ ikers we left like 2h ago_ Of course the bunch of assholes left without him.

Isco is tempted to accept Álvaro’s offer, but as usual his mouth betrays him and he ends up saying the stupidest thing he could come up with. “I’d love to, but I only drink espresso.”

Álvaro laughs with his whole body, it’s amazing. He throws his head back and his shoulders shake. It doesn’t take longer for him to recover, though. “Dude, it’s your lucky day, then. My mom bought me an espresso machine last Christmas.”

Isco can’t help but laugh because, yes, it’s indeed his lucky day. Or night to be precise. And even though is friends are assholes, maybe his life isn’t _that_ bad. “Well, lead the way, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and criticism are always welcomed!  
> Suggestions of pairings and prompts are just as welcomed.
> 
> Thank you for reading this.


End file.
